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  1. Public Bookmark 34

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    "Young master."

    "Sir Flins," said Illuga, readily, "It's rare to see you here. It's cold out. Would you like to come in?"

    "Young master." Hushed. The words land the way a pebble ripples still water. His smile withdraws, "I believe you have left something in the cemetery by mistake."

    A heavy silence befalls their figures. The lock of the metal door grinding against itself as it was pushed shut. Illuga had no intention of admitting the impertinence of his actions to the man before him. Saying it, making it known would certainly kill him, more than everything already was; that he could not stand seeing others lain in earth the longer he lives; that he was faking the whelm of his position—a captain, one who overcompensates. He refuses to turn to the other man and meet that gaze of his; and more than ever, he feels himself shake.

    "I don't know what you mean, Sir Flins."

    "A headstone," the fae answers, each words gentle in utterance. "Inadvertently carved with your name."

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    26 Mar 2026